


And In The Middle Of My Chaos, There Was You

by BadSideOf45



Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Happy Ending, Light Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mild Smut, menials
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:02:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24154762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadSideOf45/pseuds/BadSideOf45
Summary: Master Pete Wentz lives in a society where social status isn’t measured by the amount of money you have in the bank, or by the amount of land you own.It is measured in how many menials you possess.But Master Pete Wentz was never one to play by the rules…A future AU Pete/Patrick love story
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 1
Kudos: 18





	And In The Middle Of My Chaos, There Was You

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this and hesitated to post it, not wanting to offend anyone. I hope my intention will come through the story - to show rebellion, kindness, and love can win in the end.
> 
> I hope all enjoy it.

Master Pete Wentz lives in a society where social status isn’t measured by the amount of money you have in the bank, or by the amount of land you own.

It is measured in how many menials you possess.

But Master Pete Wentz was never one to play by the rules…

Once upon a time there was a land in which the wealthy ruled mercilessly, giving little to no thought to the welfare of the lower classes, who were left to survive by any means necessary.

After generations of this inhumane treatment, a low rumble started to grow among the commonality, and soon whispers of revolution began to make their way through pubs, farms, and rural churches.

One night, the upper classes were caught unaware and unprepared by an insurgency of all the able bodied plebeians, who cut telephone lines, wrecked automobiles, pillaged businesses, and ransacked many of the genteel class’ houses, barns, and granaries.

For three days the revolution raged on, until the gentry were able to send a message to the militia in the next town over.

The militia moved swiftly, taking only a few hours to squelch the revolution, driving back the commoners to the countryside.

The upper class were furious with the ungrateful, rioting peasants. So mad, in fact, that a new edit was put in place, effective immediately.

It read:

The first-born male of every household which lay in the middle class or below shall be surrendered to a special institution, who then shall take the boy and groom him to be acquiescent, place a numbered collar on him and auction him off to those living in the upper class.

If the edict was not followed, the mother of the house as well as the first-born son was terminated.

For the next century, the edict was followed strictly to the letter.

************************************************************

Master Pete Wentz rode in the back of his chauffeured Mercedes, contemplating his brief twenty three years of life.

His Mother, Mistress Dale Wentz, a titled woman by birth, had unfortunately lost her life shortly after delivering her only child. She had lost too much blood, they had told him, and was too weak to carry on.

His Father, Master Peter Wentz, who had passed away suddenly from heart failure when Pete was only sixteen years of age, had been a well respected landholder in their town.

After his father’s death, he had taken on the role of proprietor of the Wentz Estate, and had succeeded in keeping it prosperous through the instruction and sage advice of his best friend and chauffeur, Andy Hurley.

Andy had taught him everything he knew about decorum, manners, and finances. 

He had advised Pete on matters concerning the success of the Wentz estate, helping Pete to make it one of the most prosperous in the county.

But Pete had no interest in interacting with the society he lived in.

You see, Master Pete Wentz lived in a society where social status isn’t measured by the amount of money you have in the bank, or by the amount of land you own.

It is measured in how many individuals you possessed.

But Master Pete Wentz was never one to play by the rules…

Many in town found him to be odd and radical - a man who often rebelled against the societal edicts which he found to be both barbaric and inhuman.

He had no desire to attend the dull and vexatious balls and parties thrown by his peers.

Pete did, however keep up a polite, slightly aloof accord with his equals.

Pete wasn’t lonely; he enjoyed the companionship and affability of his servants and close friends.

Yes, he was content with his life and the way he chose to live it.

****************************************************** 

“Master Pete, we’re here,” Andy announced as he opened the car door for Pete. Pete got out of the vehicle and glanced at the worn, inviting entrance to the pub he enjoyed meeting his friends at.”

“Thank you Andy. I will require you to return for me in an hour’s time.”

Andy nodded and turned to the Mercedes, climbing back in and pulling away from the curb.

Pete strode to the door of the pub and pulled it open, standing in the doorway searching the room for his friend Master Joe Trohman.

After a moment he saw Joe waving him over to a table in the corner of the pub.

Pete smiled and walked over to his friend, extending his hand.

“Joe! It’s so good to see you!”

“You’re looking quite well, Pete. Please have a seat.”

Pete pulled out the chair opposite Joe and had a seat as the other man waved for the waiter.

He was a lovely young man, with wide blue eyes and light blonde hair.

Around his neck sat a thin black collar.

“May I get you a refreshment?” the young man asked.

“Master Joe and I will have two of your finest ales in tall cold glasses, please.”

The young man startled for a moment, then gained his composure. 

“Right away, Sir.”

Joe looked at Pete and shook his head, grinning.

“You almost gave that boy apoplexy saying please. I bet he doesn’t hear it much.”

Pete frowned. “I find that a sad thing. All people regardless of station in life should be treated with respect.”

Joe just shrugged and glanced around the pub, hoping no one was listening in on their conversation.

He changed the subject quickly.

“Are you planning on going to the monthly auction tomorrow?”

Pete nodded to Joe while thanking the barman for the drink that had been set in front of him.

“Are you?”

Joe nodded in reply.

“I need two more menials who will be capable of helping Marie once the baby is born.”

Pete cringed inwardly at the term.

“And how is your lovely wife? Is she ready for the much anticipated arrival of the first Trohman heir?”

A troubled look crossed Joe’s face. 

He took a large swig of his ale.

“I can’t lie. She is worried sick that we will have a boy.”

“But surely she knows your status exempts you from the edict,” Pete replied.

Joe sighs. “I know, but she can’t stop her motherly instincts from causing her to slightly panic.”

Pete leaned in closely.

“That’s why I’m opposed to this foolishness. If society would just stop-”

“Quit speaking of such things! You know it’s considered treason in many circles, and if you don’t care about yourself, at least think of Marie and I,” Joe hissed.

Pete leaned back in his seat, shamefaced.

“I’m sorry, Joe. It was thoughtless of me to carry on in such a way.”

“Forgiven and forgotten,” said Joe. And what about you? Any new acquisitions to be made?”

Pete thought a moment before answering. “I have calculated that I am able to take on between eight and ten this month.”

Joe let out a low whistle. If he knew his friend as well as he thought he did, Joe knew Pete was about to start many a tongue wagging around town.

“I wish you luck in that endeavor my friend,” Joe said as he raised his glass.

Pete clinked his glass with Joe’s. “And you as well…”

******************************************************************************

It was the last Friday of the month - time for the monthly auction of the menials to begin.

It took place in a lavishly decorated ballroom, complete with red velvet curtains, plush couches lining the walls, and innumerable comfortable armchairs from which the gentry could view the offerings and bid.

At the far end of the ballroom was a small platform, on which the menials would be paraded one by one until they had all been sold off.

The unlucky ones that received no bids - well, Pete tried his damndest to make sure that would never happen.

Pete had taken up residence in his usual chair, located on the inner aisle near the front so he could get a good idea of what he was dealing with.

“You look deep in thought,” Joe said as he dropped down into his usual seat beside Pete.

Pete turned his eyes from the stage to his friend.

“Just doing some calculating in my head. You know I always like to be one step ahead at these things.”

Joe chuckled, shaking his curly haired-head at his rather serious friend.

“I just hope I can procure two who have some experience in midwifery and child care.”

Just as Pete was about to reply, a wooden gavel loudly rapped on the podium located to the left side on the stage.

“Good Afternoon, Gentlemen,” the auctioneer said, his toothy grin on display.

Pete knew the reason for his smile was the large amount of coinage he would make from today’s sale.

“Today’s auction contains several exceptional lots, I wish each and every one of you Good Luck.”

A young man, his head bowed, was escorted by two burly men onto the platform.

He was wearing only a loincloth and a collar around his neck.

“We begin the auction with a very healthy specimen, strong broad shoulders with toned arms and legs in perfect health.”

As the auctioneer was prattling on, the handlers were pushing at the menial, turning him this way and that, grabbing his chin and showing the audience his teeth.

“Ten thousand!” the first bid rang out.

“Twenty thousand,” said another voice.

“Thirty,” the first bidder said.

Pete held up his hand discreetly to the auctioneer.

“Fifty thousand! We have fifty thousand in the middle of the room. Do I hear any other bids?”

Pete heard many men grumbling around the room, causing him to grin to himself.

Silence.

“Fifty thousand once, fifty thousand twice - Sold to Master Wentz!”

The hammer fell.

A scattering of polite applause was heard around the room.

Joe leaned over and whispered to Pete.

“You’re not making any friends, you know.”

Pete kept his eyes forward, his mouth in a straight line.

“I don’t care.” he said, his tone vacant.

****************************************************

The auction had dragged on for what seemed forever.

Joe had been lucky and found two medically versed menials to help Marie with delivery and care of their first born.

Pete had been successful in his endeavors too, procuring seven young men - three sturdy men, two blind men, a mute man, and a sickly pale man.

He had stood up with Joe and turned around to leave, deciding he did not wish to stay for the last lot.

An audible gasp, followed by loud murmuring filled the room.

Pete and Joe turned around immediately to face the podium.

There, in the middle of the podium, stood an angelic young man.

He was as pale as the winter moon, with flawless porcelain skin and fair hair.

He was not sturdily built, nor was he obese.

He stood staring defiantly straight ahead, back straight and proud.

His eyes, however, gave him away.

Pete could see fear and anger in those riptide eyes.

Pete sunk back slowly into his chair.

He was not leaving without him.

Joe looked from Pete to the podium and back again, a smirk on his face.

“Good luck, Pete,” Joe said as he patted Pete’s shoulder and strode away, in a hurry to collect his lots and get back home to his heavily pregnant wife.

“Gentlemen, I have saved the best for last,” the auctioneer smirked. “Our last lot is an exceptional specimen, ready for work in the field.”

“However I feel he would be better suited for the house…”

He leered at the boy, which made Pete twice as determined in his quest.

“May I start the bidding at twenty thousand dollars? Surely that isn’t too much for a beautiful boy such as this,”

“Twenty Thousand!” was quickly bid.

“Thirty”

“Forty”

“Fifty thousand,” were all bid in rapid succession.

Suddenly - “One million dollars”

All the men in the room, including Pete, turned to stare at the man leaning casually against the doorframe leading into the ballroom.

It was Master Gabriel Saporta, a relative newcomer to their town. He was in the Upper Class, and had caught on to their way of life very quickly.

His menials were known to suffer from extreme cruelty and carnal abuse at his hands.

A smug and arrogant look positioned on his face.

Pete turned around, determined to not allow the fury that was raging inside of his heart overtake his level head..

Now, more than ever, he was resolved that when the hammer fell, this man would go home with him.

Pete signaled the auctioneer with two fingers against his chest.

“Two million!”

“Three million,” Pete heard Gabe say, a note of boredom in his tone.

Pete signaled again.

“Four million!”

Gabe bid again, his tone incensed.  
“Five million.”

Pete had had enough.

He was through playing games with Gabe Saporta.

Pete signaled the auctioneer with what he hoped would be a bid high enough to deter Saporta.

“Ten Million Dollars!!” The greedy auctioneer cried with glee.

Pete turned slightly just in time to watch Gabe slam his tophat on his head and storm from the room.

He smiled to himself.

“Ten million once, ten million twice, sold to Master Pete Wentz!”

The gavel fell for the last time until the following month.

Pete stood up, stretched, and began heading to the cashier.

He was tired, but he still needed to collect his new acquisitions, return home, and inform them about their new lives.

**********************************************************************

William and Spencer herded the men into a small bus located outside the back door of the ball room.

Pete watched as they all got on, his most expensive procurement to date climbing on last.

Pete knew he was worth the money he had spent - they all were.

“Ready to go, Master Wentz?” Andy inquired as he held open the back door of the Mercedes.

Pete just nodded and climbed in. 

Once buckled, he let his head fall back on the seat and dozed until they reached Wentz Manor.

Andy stopped the car, jarring Pete awake. He looked out the window and saw that all the men had been lined up in front of manor on the edge of the manicured lawn.

Andy opened the back door, allowing Pete to get out and shake the hands of his two best employees.

“Spencer, William, I take it everything is in order here?” Pete said as his eyes ran down the line of men in front of him, stopping on the stunningly pale man at the end of the line, finding the defiant glare on his face once again.

“Yes, sir,” they replied in unison.

“Good. Please take these young men inside so they may get dressed and freshen up. I wish to speak to them in my library in exactly half an hour.”

“As you wish,” Spencer replied, while William herded the men into the large house.

Pete turned to Andy, feeling the other man’s hand on his shoulder.

“I’m proud of what you’re doing, Pete. And I know your father and mother are too.

“I hope so, Andy. I just wish I could do more…”

Andy smiled. 

“Perhaps in time...go rest for a few minutes. Is your insomnia bad again?”

Pete only nodded.

“Don’t worry about the future too much. What’s meant to be will be.”

Pete smiled at Andy’s wise words, turned, and entered the house, ready to do what needed to be done.

*******************************************************************************

The young men were lined up in the library when Pete entered.

He had just enough time to splash water on his face and have a cool drink.

Pete quietly shut the door to the library. 

He nodded to Spencer, who walked over to a large desk in the room and procured a stack of papers and a pen.

Spencer returned to Pete and stood by his side, pen poised over the paper.

Pete walked to the first man, standing in front of him.

“Your birth name please.”

“Frank Iero, Master.”

Spencer wrote the name on a sheet of paper as William reached behind Frank’s neck and removed his collar.

Frank felt his naked neck, eyes wide with fright.

Pete stepped to face the next man.

“Birth name, please.”

“Bob Bryar, Master.”

Once again, Spencer wrote the name on a sheet of paper as William reached behind Bob’s neck and removed his collar.

Bob just stared questiongly at Pete.

The actions repeated in the same way five more times until Pete stopped in front of the last man.

The young man he had acquired for ten million dollars.

“Your birth name, Please?” Pete asked gently.

The boy drew up to stand at his full height of five feet, four inches.

“Patrick Stumph, Master.”

As Spencer and William processed the last paperwork and collar, Pete took the time to study Patrick.

He was very strong, very proud, and from the looks of it, very stubborn.

There was also something fascinating about him…

“Master Pete, would you like to finish the paperwork now?”

Pete turned and walked to his desk, took the pen from Spencer and signed his name eight times on the separate documents.

As he was doing this, William had instructed the men to face Pete’s desk.

Pete folded his hands on his desk, and began to speak.

“My name is Master Pete Wentz. I own Wentz Manor and one hundred acres surrounding it.”

“I’m sure you are all wondering why I asked for your birth names and had your collars removed.”

Pete held up one of the documents.

“This is a legal document signed by me declaring that from today on you are all free men.”

Loud gasps and sobs were heard in the small room.

“I am no longer your Master.”

“You are free to do as you choose and go where you choose.”

“I only ask one thing in return for your freedom.”

“I ask that you remain on my lands as sharecroppers for one year.”

“If, after one year, you wish to leave, you are free to do so.”

“However, if you decide to stay and work here at Wentz Manor you are welcome here for as long as you would like to stay.”

He pointed to Spencer, then William.

“This is Spencer and William, my trusted colleagues. They oversee the daily operations at all of my holdings.”

“They, also, are not your masters, only supervisors to help teach and guide you.”

“If you have any questions or concerns at all bring them to Spencer or William, who will, in turn, bring them to my attention.

“If you choose to stay, you are guaranteed food, clothing, shelter, and protection.”

“Welcome to Wentz Manor, Gentlemen, and I wish you all the very best of luck.”

Pete turned to William.

“Will you please escort these gentlemen to the dining hall so they may enjoy a hearty meal before they go down to the countryside?”

“Yes Master Wentz.”

Pete then turned away and began to speak to Spencer about a problem one of the current tenants was experiencing.

Spencer lifted his head in a gesture over Pete’s right shoulder. 

He turned around, coming face to face with the riptide eyes and porcelain skin of Patrick.

“Sir, if I may be so bold, why on Earth would you spend ten million dollars on me just to turn around and set me free?”

Without thinking or drawing a breath Pete replied honestly, “Because it was the right thing to do.”

Pete turned back to finish his conversation with Spencer.

When he turned to exit the study with Spencer, Patrick was gone.

Why was he a little disappointed at the absence of the young man?

************************************************************************************ 

That night Pete’s insomnia was worse than ever.

Every time his eyes drifted shut, his thoughts were drawn to eyes the color of the sea and skin the color of the white cliffs of Dover.

He finally got out of bed and began to pace the house. 

He had no idea where he was going or what he was looking for. 

When he reached the room at the very end of the manor (the music room) he sat at the piano.

He pulled back the sheet that protected the keys and began to slowly play a lullaby his governess had taught him.

When the song was over and the last note was ricocheting around the silent room, Pete realized what had been vexing him so badly.

He was lonely.

Pete placed the sheet back over the piano and once again began to walk through the house, turning the thought over and over in his head, thoroughly examining it.

He was no stranger to the act of loving another; during the trip he took to the Continent (a rite of passage every genteel young man experienced) he had enjoyed the company of numerous paramours, both female and male.

But upon return to Wentz Manor, Pete found no one his equal in interests, intelligence, or beliefs.

Andy often encouraged Pete to take a lover, but Pete wasn’t interested in either a tryst or a relationship.

But he now found that the young man Patrick had caught his attention.

Pete didn’t understand why - Patrick was just like all the other men he acquired and then freed.

Then why, pray tell, was this young man haunting his thoughts?

****************************************************************************************

Three days had gone by with only positive reports coming in from the countryside about the new men.

They had all chosen to stay, and were very hard workers, enjoying the fellowship and camaraderie that sharecropping afforded them.

They were also fitting in well with the other men - Pete was happy to hear fast friendships were being made.

He would never dare to ask, but he found himself wondering how Patrick was doing.

Pete had never shown favoritism to any of his sharecroppers, and he’d be damned if he would start now.

******************************

The next day Pete was going over some financial statements when he heard a soft knock at the door.

“Come in,” he said.

It was Hayley, one of the few women Pete had in his employ.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, Master Pete. I was going out to retrieve the mail and happened to glance down at the doormat. Placed upon it was this.”

In Hayley’s hand was a small package, as big as her palm. Pete motioned for her to come closer.

“Set it on the desk Hayley, and I shall open it later. Thank you”

Hayley curtseyed and left the study, shutting the door behind her.

Pete looked at the box with curiosity. 

It appeared to be something wrapped up in a clean piece of cloth, tied with twine.

He gently picked up the package and turned it over in his hands. It was semi-oval and was very light.

Pete set the package in front of him and pulled a pair of scissors from a container on his desk.

He cut the string delicately, as if he could riddle out the identity of the gift giver by keeping the string as intact as possible.

Pete carefully removed the twine, and unwrapped the cloth.

He gasped.

Sitting on the cloth was a small rabbit.

It had been carved by expert hands, which brought out many details of the animal.

Just by looking at the figure, Pete could see its soft fur, its closed eyes, its long ears, even the tiny toes on its paws.

Pete gently picked it up and turned it over in his hand.

There was no signature; no marking of any kind.  
Pete was puzzled.

Delighted, but puzzled.

It was not his birthday, nor did he have anything to celebrate.

Who would give him such an exquisite gift, and why?

******

Pete had placed the small carved bunny on his nightstand, where he could look at it every night before retiring for bed.

Sometimes, he would stay up late staring at it, trying to riddle out who it was from and what it was meant to convey.

The next day he looked forward to Hayley dropping off the mail.

She made no mention of a package. 

Pete put the tiny piece of disappointment out of his mind and continued on with his daily tasks.

But when he went to his bedroom, the first thing he did was pick up the small carved figure and turn it over in his hands, caressing it.

******

Two days later Hayley once again entered the study with a cloth wrapped package, this one a little larger than the last.

“Sir, I found this in the same place that I found the last package.”

Pete could hardly contain his excitement.

“Just place it on the desk, Hayley, and I’ll get to it eventually.”

“Yes, Sir,” Hayley said, placing the package and the mail on the desk before exiting.

As soon as the door was closed, Pete gently picked up the package and set it directly in front of him.

He stared at it for a few minutes, trying to figure out what was inside just by the shape of the package.

Curiosity, however, soon overwhelmed him, and he once again gingerly cut the twine on the package.

Folding the edges of the cloth back, his smile grew wider.

Nestled in the folds of the cloth was a diorama of a carved wooden mouse, asleep beside a piece of cheese and laying on a slice of bread.

The carving was just as exquisite as on the last figure, perhaps even better.

The mouse was asleep, tail curled around him as if protecting him from the outside world.

The carved cheese wedge carved next to the mouse had deep indents in it, not unlike the holes in Swiss cheese.

Finally, the bread had a darker color on one end, distinguishing it as the crust. Pete was unsure how the carver could have achieved that effect.

When Pete turned the diorama all the way around, he was charmed when he realized the mouse had fallen asleep on a pat of butter.

Pete picked up the figure once again and glanced underneath.

No signature.

Now Pete was thoroughly befuddled.

Who on Earth would send him such ornate gifts without leaving behind one clue as to their identity?

After dinner Pete took the diorama and placed it beside the rabbit on his nightstand.

He lay on the bed staring at them for a while, finding more and more small details he had missed before.

Before he reached up to turn off the light by his bed, he caressed each figure, imagining he could feel ghosts of the fingerprints left by the carver.

Pete fell asleep pondering the origin of the figures.

************************************************************************

The next five days found Pete caught up in an error he found in his calculations concerning the manor’s household spending. 

He poured over the numbers night after night, trying to locate where the error may have occurred.

Vicky, the cook, became very worried about Pete after he had stayed up for the third night in a row.

He only drank coffee, and barely ate anything from the plates of food Hayley would bring him.

Vicky went to find Andy, the only person who could make Pete see reason.

He was in the garage, cleaning the Mercedes.

“Andy, I’m very worried about Master Pete. He has been up for three days in a row now obsessing over a clerical error. He only drinks coffee, and barely eats,” Vicky said while wringing her hands.

Andy could tell how much Pete’s behavior was vexing the poor woman.

“I can go and talk to him, if you think it would help.”

Thank you Andy, that would be wonderful.”

*******

“Come in.”

Andy entered the study and found Pete hunched over his accounting ledgers, placing numbers on his adding machine so fast it nearly made Andy’s head spin.

Andy had a sandwich on a plate in his hand, and he set it down on top of the ledgers occupying the entire surface of Pete’s desk.

Pete frowned and moved the sandwich, gently punching his best friend in the arm.

“Andy, I know everyone is worried, but I have to locate the error before it throws the finances of the entire Manor off.

Andy crossed his arms and looked down at Pete.

“And what good is a manor without someone to take care of all the people encompassed in it?”

Pete stilled and thought for a moment.

“I never thought of it that way.

Andy smiled and ruffled Pete’s hair.

“Sometimes it takes someone besides ourselves to see what’s best for us.”

Pete took a bite of the sandwich and chewed thoughtfully.

“Andy, is it possible to have feelings for someone you’ve never met?”

Andy crinkled his eyebrows.

“I’m not sure what you mean…”

Pete took another bite. “I’ve been getting presents lately, charming sweet little gifts, but I have no idea who leaves them for me.”

Andy rubbed his chin. 

“These gifts, would you say they were made with great feeling and care?”

Pete nodded his head vigorously.

“Definitely.”

As Pete was chewing the last bite of his sandwich, Andy spoke, nearly causing Pete to choke.

“I think that you, my friend, may have yourself a secret admirer.”

Pete stared slack-jawed at Andy’s back as he walked towards the door of the study.

“And check that last set of calculations you did. You added in one too many zeroes.”

Pete looked down at the ledger and added once again, this time slowly and carefully.

He looked out the empty door.

“I’ll be damned…”

********************************************************

After locating his error and righting the accounts, Pete was exhausted. 

He went to the kitchen, where Vicky whipped him up a hearty beef stew and fluffy cornbread. 

As he was heading towards the stairs to go up to his room for the night, he spied a package sitting on the entry room table.

It was wrapped in a bigger piece of cloth, but still tied with twine.

Pete called over his shoulder, “When did this package arrive?”

Hayley leaned out of the kitchen.

“It came yesterday but you had said you didn’t want to be disturbed, so I placed it on the table for safekeeping.”

Pete went over to the table and touched the package with his fingertips.

“Thank you Hayley. That will be all.”

Pete picked up the package and dashed up the stairs as soon as the kitchen door swung shut.

He hugged the package to his breast and jumped on his bed with it, landing on his bed so the package wouldn’t get damaged.

Pete pulled open his night stand drawer and pulled out a small knife.

He cut the twine and pulled it off the package, letting it slip to the floor.

He swallowed and cracked his knuckles, letting the suspense build.

He had no idea what to expect.

Pete lifted the cloth.

This...this was magical.

On the cloth lay a carved wooden newborn fawn.

It had small ears and a small nose.

The deer’s eyes were closed, but the carver had added eyelashes to the lids.

Shallow indents had been carved into the body, mimicking the fawn’s true coloring.

But what had enchanted Pete were the tiny thin gangly legs folded under the fawn as it slept.

Pete carefully picked the fawn up and added it to the collection of wooden treasures located beside his bed.

Of course Pete had seen rabbits, mice, and deer before, but never like this.

He had never before thought of them as some of nature’s most beautiful creatures.

The person who had carved them must surely possess a gentle soul to be able to capture the truly lovely essence of the animals.

Pete reluctantly climbed out of bed and put on his pajamas.

He climbed back into bed a few minutes later, caressed each figure, then turned off the light.

He fell asleep dreaming of a lush green meadow, graceful animals laying and frolocking in the grass.

He could see a silhouette in the distance, waving at him, beckoning him closer.

Pete did not recognize the person. 

He tried to approach the person, but the closer he got, the farther away the figure appeared.

Pete awoke the next morning disgruntled, but also semi-aroused.

****************************************************************

It had been six days.

Six days since he had received his last gift.

Pete was on the brink of despair.

Had his admirer moved away? Forgotten about him? Found someone new?

His mind led him to some very dark places which Pete found harder and harder to come back from.

After the third day of brooding he decided to go riding on his favorite horse, Chestnut.

He went down to the stables and saddled him, leading him to the mounting block before swinging his leg over the sizable beast.

Pete patted the side of Chesnut’s head.

Then Pete gave his sides a nudge, sending him into a canter, allowing the horse to pick their destination.

Chestnut followed his well-known path to the stream which divided the property.

“Are you trying to tell me something, boy?” Pete said while dismounting.

The cool water looked very inviting, and since it was a very secluded spot, Pete felt no shame stripping off his clothes and barreling into the water.

He ducked his head under, allowing the water to flow through his hair.

When he emerged, he found Chestnut chewing on some grass he had procured by the edge of the stream.

After splashing around in the water a few more minutes, Pete decided to climb out and lay in the sun.

The sun warmed his body, allowing him to close his eyes and smile.

For the first time in days he felt at peace.

He had almost fallen asleep when he heard the sound of a small twig breaking.

He quickly sat up and scanned the other bank where the noise had come from.

The branches of the bushes were moving, but there was no one in sight.

Pete shrugged and stood, gathering his clothes and redressing.

He hopped back up on Chestnut, and sent her racing back to Wentz Manor.

**********************************************************************************

Pete was eating breakfast in the kitchen a week later when Hayley came into the room.

“Hello Hayley. May I help you?”

Hayley motioned to a young man, who was carrying a sizable package in his arms.

“Master Wentz, I found this on the front stoop today. I noticed this boy nearby trimming the hedges, and asked him if he had seen anyone leave the package.”

Pete’s heart was racing, but he kept a calm demeanor.

Did you see anything, young man?”

The boy, who had to be around fourteen, spoke quietly.

“Yes, Sir. I saw a short person with a knitted cap pulled low on their head wearing a baggy sweater and black pants walking away from the direction of the porch this morning.”

Pete questioned the boy for a few more minutes, but he had no more information to offer.

“Thank you for your help. Hayley, please give this young man a few cookies as a reward.”

Hayley curtseyed and led the young man into the pantry.

Pete chose that time to pick up the package and cradle it in his arms, carrying it up the stairs.

Beside Pete’s bedroom was a small library, with a door between the two.

Pete entered the library and closed the door; everyone knew not to disturb him here.

He placed the package on the library table and took a seat.

Pete cut the string quickly.

The item was so large the cloth slid off of it by its own accord.

Pete sat staring at the gift, afraid if he blinked or took one breath the exquisite statue would disappear.

He held out a shaky finger and ran the tip of it over the carved mane of Chestnut.

He continued down the horse’s body and leg, admiring the intricate carving of the horse’s face,saddle, and tail before pausing at the bottom.

There, lying beside a carved rippling stream was a perfect likeness of himself.

Naked.

The carver had taken great care with this piece, capturing Pete’s long strong legs, his tanned taut torso, his defined arm muscles, and Pete’s serene face while laying by the stream.

“Is that what I look like when I sleep?” Pete wondered aloud.

He had never seen himself so still, so content.

Then Pete blushed.

The carver had also carved his manhood, the length and girth of it in perfect proportion to the rest of the wooden Pete.

He had even got the curls of his hair right.

It was picture perfect, as if someone had been with him at the stream that day.

It was as if Pete had been carved by a lover.

Why did that thought electrify him, causing him to break out in goosebumps?

Who was this person?

******************************************************************************

Pete had become so enamored with the statue that he sent Andy immediately to town to buy a marble - topped ornate wooden stand for it.

He had Andy place the stand by the side of the bed against the wall.

He then dismissed Andy before going into the adjacent library to carry the statue to its new home.

Pete would lay in bed at night, imaging what his admirer looked like. Was he or she tall? Short? Thin? Fair haired?

Pete also thought about the information the young boy had given him. 

He thought about all the people in his acquaintance, trying to fit any of them to the description.

To his dismay, he concluded that no one close to him fit the boy’s report.

At night, in his dreams, he was back at the stream, lying on the bank naked, a naked lover lying close beside him. 

Pete had his eyes closed in the dream but could feel the soft plush lips of his lover as they lay playful kisses all over his body.

He also could feel his lover’s thick, hard erection against his leg.

Dream Pete turned to his lover without opening his eyes and touched his lover’s face.

He had skin as soft as velvet and a thick plump lower lip.

Dream Pete smiled thinking of all the things his lover could do with that mouth.

Before he knew it, his lover was slowly kissing him, lazily pumping Pete’s erection in his hand until Pete gasped and came.

Dream Pete opened his eyes, but the bright sunlight kept him from making out the features of the man.

When Pete awoke from his wet dream, all he could remember was the bright halo of fair hair surrounding his lover’s head.

*********************************

Pete never received another gift.

He was heartsick, but made himself content with his beautiful statue.

Two weeks after receiving the last gift, Pete decided to make the rounds of his land.

He mounted Chestnut and began at the back of his property, working his way back towards Wentz Manor.

All of his farmland was prospering, and all of his workers were happy. 

William and Spencer rode with him, reporting between villages of any departures, grievances, or illnesses they felt important enough to bring to Pete’s attention.

They finally reached the last village at dusk, and Pete had called Andy and asked him to bring the Mercedes. He had worked Chestnut too hard today.

William led Chestnut back to the barn while Pete and Spencer walked throughout the village.

This was the village the newest acquisitions had been brought to, and Pete was anxious to see how they were faring.

Bob and Frank had become fast friends, bonding over their love of music.

The other men were also happy and thriving in their new environment.

Spencer glanced around.

“Where is Patrick?” he asked.

Pete stared at Spencer.

It all came flooding back to him.

Patrick Stump, the porcelain-skinned fair-haired man full of pride and boldness.

The man that had questioned his reason for letting him go free.

The man Pete had paid ten million dollars to save from Gabe Saporta.

Pete repeated his question more urgently. “Where is Patrick?” a feeling of dread building in the pit of Pete’s stomach.

How long had it been since he last received a gift?

Five days? Seven?

Pete had to find Patrick immediately.

Finally the mute man made hand signs to his friend standing next to him.

“My friend says Patrick is in his home, very sick. He had been coming out to the fields, but the boss sent him home when he saw how weak Patrick was.”

“Where does he live?” Pete demanded.

The mute man began to walk quickly, Pete following fast on his heels.  
When they reached a small blue house on the edge of town, the mute man pointed to the door.

In the silence, Pete could hear the stream bubbling in the background.

An awakening occurred in Pete’s heart, making him double his efforts to get to Patrick.

Pete tried the knob and found it to be unlocked.

He strode through the house with purpose, calling Patrick’s name.

There was no answer, only ominous silence.

Pete finally reached what he assumed to be Patrick’s bedroom.

He pushed the door open to find Patrick passed out on the bed, flushed with fever, and breathing shallowly.

On the floor by his bed was a knife and wood shavings.

And in Patrick’s half closed hand lay a detailed carved miniature of Patrick holding an oversized heart.

**************************************

Pete barked out orders to anyone in his sight.

He sent Spencer to fetch the doctor from the town, Bob to instruct Andy to drive to the front of Patrick’s house, and Frank up to the manor house with implicit instructions for Vickey and Hayley to prepare his bedroom to act as a sick chamber.

Meanwhile Pete sat on the edge of the bed, Patrick’s head cradled gently in his lap, his hand gently covering Patrick’s full one.

Pete was angry.

He refused to let him go without a fight.

He could not, would not lose Patrick - his secret admirer, his dream lover, the champion of his heart.

*******************************

Pete carefully carried Patrick to the back of his Mercedes, Andy assisting in helping him load the patient into the back seat.

Pete climbed in behind Patrick and lay Patrick’s head in his lap.

“Get us to the manor house as quickly as you can, Andy.”

Andy gave Pete a short, curt nod. He closed the door, ran around to the driver’s side, climbed in and took off at top speed.

Shortly they arrived at the manor house. Andy opened the back door for Pete, who picked up the still-unconscious Patrick and carried him up the stairs straight to his bedroom.

Spencer and Doctor Gerard Way were standing in the room, waiting for them.

As soon as Pete laid Patrick on the bed the doctor sprang into action.

Dr. Way evaluated the situation quickly, then turned to Pete.

“I need to examine him. I think it would best, in order to preserve Patrick’s modesty, if you and Spencer step out for a moment.”

Pete nodded, and he and Spencer headed for the door.

The entire time Pete was outside the bedroom, he paced in front of the door, pulling his hair absently.

“Master,” Spencer quietly said. “He is a strong lad. He will be back to the fields in no time.”

Pete swung on Spencer, a dark look on his face.

“Do you think I’m so uncaring that I only think of him as a cash machine for me?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend, Master Pete.”

Pete continued his pacing, wondering what was taking Dr. Way so long.

**************************

After what seemed like hours, Dr. Way opened the door slightly.

“You gentlemen may come in now..”  
Pete rushed to Patrick’s side, followed by the doctor and Spencer.

“I examined him thoroughly,” Dr. Way began. “I feel he has contracted some type of respiratory disease. It has greatly affected his lung capacity, making it quite difficult for him to draw breath.”

“I feel taking him to the hospital around other patients would do him more harm than good.”

“I shall therefore return to town and fetch all the medicine and equipment needed to cure Patrick.”

Pete could only stare at Patrick’s pale, perspiring face, his fair hair damp against his forehead.

“Anything he needs,” Pete said commandingly. “Spare no expense.”

“Yes, Sir,” Doctor Way replied. “I will return to town with Spencer, gather everything required, and return as soon as possible.

Pete looked at the doctor and nodded.

“Please,” he said quietly.

Doctor Way nodded his head determinedly before motioning for Spencer to follow him out of the door.

When Pete was positive he and Patrick were alone, he gently picked up Patrick’s hand, held it up to his lips and laid a light kiss on it.

“I swear I will do everything in my power to bring you back to full health.”

*************************

When Doctor Way and Spencer returned a short time later, Pete sent Spencer downstairs, appointing him to act in his stead until further notice while he remained by Patrick’s side.

Pete quickly returned to the bedside.

“We must place a warm air humidifier beside the bed, which will use heated moisture and medicine to help heal his lungs. Every four hours he will need a breathing treatment, which I shall administer myself,” Doctor Way explained.

“He will need to be constantly bathed with cool water to try and bring down his fever. Do you employ anyone who could do the task?”

“I shall do the task myself,” Pete lifted his chin, daring the doctor to challenge him.

“As you wish,” Dr. Way replied.

He began to set up the equipment at Patrick’s bed side while Pete called down to the kitchen for Hayley to bring him a large bowl of cool water.

Almost immediately, Hayley appeared at the bedroom door, water and cloth in hand.

“Thank you, Hayley,” Pete said as he took the items from her hands. “I shall be indisposed indefinitely, and I would appreciate it if the house could be kept as quiet as possible.”

“Yes, Master Wentz.”

************************************

Doctor Way immediately set up the humidifier, followed by administering a breathing treatment to Patrick.

Patrick began to stir, his eyes fluttering and his hands trying to grab at the doctor.

Pete lightly grabbed Patrick’s hands and placed them on the bed.

“Patrick,” Pete said lowly into his ear. “You’re very sick, and we are trying to help you get well. Please lay still and let the doctor administer the medicine.”

Upon hearing Pete’s voice, Patrick instantly stopped moving.

Pete looked up at the Doctor, who quickly looked back down at the patient.

Pete had unknowingly been caressing Patrick’s hands with his own.

He pulled his hands away, picked up the cloth and dipped it into the bowl on his night stand, the nightstand which held his much beloved carved figures.

Pete gently mopped Patrick’s brow with the cold water, moving the cloth down his rosy cheeks and down across his lightly stubbled chin.

He then dipped the cloth back in the cold water, continuing his ministrations on the patient’s neck and shoulders.  
Pete placed the cloth in the bowl, needing to pull the sheet down to Patrick’s waist in order to reach his chest.

He moved the sheet, and turned to get the wet cloth.

When Pete turned back, he quietly gasped.

Patrick was beautiful - more beautiful than he had ever imagined.

As Pete tenderly wiped the cold cloth over Patrick’s fevered skin, he couldn’t help but admire the smattering of light copper-colored hair in the middle of his torso; the taunt pink buds that protruded from both sides of his chest; and the random smattering of freckles that graced his skin.

Pete took a deep breath and tried to get his feelings in check as he rinsed the cloth in the cool water.

When he turned back around, he continued down Patrick’s torso, along the sides, into the navel, and down to the beginning of the hair which led to his manhood.

Pete felt his cock stir. 

He swiftly turned away, ashamed by the direction his thoughts had taken.

“Master Wentz, I have finished administering the initial dose of medicine. I have done all I can do for him right now. I will retire downstairs and return shortly for Patrick’s next treatment. Please continue running the humidifier and cooling the patient down.”

Pete gathered his composure before turning to the doctor.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done. You will be compensated handsomely for your trouble.”

Doctor Way held up his hand and shook his head. “Please don’t think of that now - we need to concentrate on Patrick.”

Pete nodded before turning back to Patrick, concern and adoration in his eyes.

“And don’t worry,” Doctor Way said before walking through the door. “I will say nothing of what I see and hear in this room.”

“Thank you for your discretion. See you soon.”

Doctor Way smiled and walked out the door, closing it shut behind him.

*******************************

Throughout the evening and night, the doctor administered Patrick’s treatment and medicine as Pete cooled down Patrick’s body with a damp cold cloth.

Patrick’s fever climbed higher and higher, causing Doctor Way to shake his head.

“I don’t understand it. The medicine should be working by now. I think I’ll return to town and see if there is a stronger medicine I can try.”

Pete nodded, and the doctor slipped out of the room.

Andy came in shortly after the doctor left.

“Pete, you must rest. I will watch over him while you get a bite to eat and rest for a while.”

“I’m not leaving him,” Pete snapped. “I want to be by his side when he wakes up.”

“Pete…” Andy said softly.

Pete raised his tired eyes to Andy’s. 

“I am going nowhere. I am staying here until Patrick has awoken.” Pete said firmly before turning away and picking up Patrick’s pale hand.

Andy approached the bed and placed his hand on Pete’s shoulder.

“In all the years I have spent with you, I have never seen you act like this before. What’s going on?”

Pete turned to Andy. “I found him. My secret admirer.”

He pulled the figure he had found in Patrick’s hand out of his pocket and showed it to Andy.

“I can’t leave him,” Pete said as he looked at Patrick fondly. “I just can’t.”

Andy placed the carved figure with others on Pete’s night stand.

He squeezed Pete’s shoulder, a supportive gesture with just a touch of sympathy.

“If I bring you a sandwich, will you please try to eat it? Vicky is giving me an earful downstairs.”

Pete chuckled and turned to face Andy. “Better be careful, Andy. Before you know it, you’ll be at the altar one minute and rocking a cradle the next.”

Andy punched Pete in the arm, his face turning red.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer. I’ll be back with your food shortly.”

Pete smiled as Andy walked quickly from the room.

*************************

When Andy returned, Pete swiftly ate the sandwich and sent Andy out the door.

Sometime around noon, the doctor returned, new medicine in tow.

Doctor Way examined Patrick once again.

He shook his head, a grim look on his face.

“His fever is still quite high, and his lungs sound like they are slowly filling.”

“Master Pete, I have brought the strongest medicine that I know of aimed to fight this disease. I will give it to him in shot form, and hopefully it will help Patrick overcome his fever and improve.”

“If the shot fails, though, we will have to seriously consider taking Patrick to the hospital to be monitored constantly by doctors more versed in this condition.”

“I know it’s not an ideal situation, and that Patrick may likely contract a worse disease, but it may be his last chance.”

“I’m very sorry, Master Pete. You are a very compassionate employer.”

Pete shook the doctor’s hand. “Thank you for your advice, and your candor. I shall watch him through this afternoon and through the night, and will make sure to call for you if anything should happen.”

Doctor Way gave Pete a sympathetic smile before silently slipping from the room.

*******************************

It was close to midnight, and Patrick showed no signs of improvement.

He thrashed in the bed, sweating through the sheets, murmuring quietly, pained looks flashing across his face.

Pete lost the last bit of composure he had, however, when a single tear spilled down Patrick’s pale-skinned flushed cheek.

Pete gently wiped the tear away before picking up Patrick’s hand, placing a gentle kiss on the rapidly thrumming pulse point on the inside of Patrick’s wrist.

He enfolded Patrick’s small hands in both of his before allowing his heart to speak the words Pete would never utter out loud..

‘Patrick, I know we don’t know each other intimately, but I’m hoping to change that.’

‘The feelings that are growing in my heart were planted by you. Feelings I have never in my whole life experienced before.’

‘When I first saw you, I knew you were a strong, proud man.’

‘Now you have proven to me that you are not only that, but a man who also possesses a gentle soul, a kindness for others, and a true gift of capturing the true beauty in everything you see.’

Pete looked up at Patrick and wiped the cool cloth slowly across his forehead.

‘But I, however, am not beautiful on the inside.’

‘I constantly fight the demons that live inside my head, making me at times, hard, callous, and indifferent.’

Pete pulled his hand away, placing the cloth back in the bowl.

‘But a small part of me yearns that you will be the one - the one to comfort me, to laugh with me, to pull me away from the ledges I create in my mind.’

Pete leaned over, kissed the back of Patrick’s hand, and lay his head gently beside Patrick’s arm on the bed.

‘My most fervent wish is that, in the near future, you will grow to feel some level of affection for me, be it friendship or love.’

‘I hope with every fiber of my being that it will be the latter.’

As soon as those last words were uttered, Pete gave in to the exhaustion that had plagued him for two weeks and fell into a peaceful sleep.

********************************

Pete snuggled farther into the coverlet of his bed, sunshine warming his face, a gentle hand carding through his hair.

He nuzzled his head into the hand, causing it to pull away quickly.

Pete’s eyes flew open, and he found himself gazing into the most beautiful greenish-blue eyes he had ever seen.

HIs cheeks were still rosy and he had a sheen of sweat on his brow, but he was awake.

Patrick’s fever must have broken during the night while Pete was asleep.

Patrick smiled shyly and nodded his head towards the menagerie of carvings.

“Those are quite lovely.” Patrick said, seeming anxious to hear Pete’s answer.

Pete lifted his head and smiled widely at Patrick.

“They are my dearest possessions.”

Patrick blushed and looked to his bare chest, reaching to pull the sheet up to hide his nakedness.

“Here, let me help you…” Pete said as he grabbed the edge of the sheets, trying to protect Patrick’s modesty while he pulled the covers up over him.

“Thank you,” Patrick said, glancing at Pete.

Before anything else could be said between the two men, Doctor Way knocked before entering the room.

“Ah, Patrick! I’m so glad to see you awake! How are you feeling today?”

Patrick took a breath to answer, but instead of words a deep braying cough passed his lips.

Pete hurried to retrieve a glass of water for Patrick from his ensuite.

Pete helped Patrick sit up against the headboard before handing him the glass of water.

Patrick put the glass to the lips and took a long drink, leaving a few drops behind on his lips when he was through.

Pete had to fight a strong urge to reach his thumb out, wipe them away and bring the thumb to his own mouth.

Patrick innocently darted his small pink tongue out to lick his lips.

Pete felt a desire flare in the pit of his stomach.

************************************

Pete stepped out of the room and allowed Doctor Way to examine Patrick. He once again paced outside the door, Andy leaning against the wall watching him.

“What are you going to do?” Andy finally asked.

Pete stopped in his tracks and turned to face his friend.

“Do about what?”

Andy smiled widely. “You’re in love with him.”

Pete shrugged.

“He’s only eighteen, Andy. He’s going to be leaving soon, and I can’t ask him to stay”

“How are you so sure he’ll leave?”

Pete looked up. “What am I supposed to do, Andy? All I can offer him is a lifetime of caring for a man with a mental condition.”

Andy shook his head. “Have you ever considered talking to him about it?”

“I don’t want him to care for me because he feels sorry for me or obligated to me.”

Andy shook his head.

“I feel like you are underestimating him…”

Pete watched as Andy walked down the hall, leaving him to his thoughts.

******************************************

Pete went back into his bedroom after Doctor Way had determined that Patrick was slowly on his way to recovery.

Patrick glanced at Pete shyly. “I was wondering if I might have a bath and a clean nightshirt?”

“Of course! While you are bathing I’ll have Hayley change the sheets for you as well.”

Pete entered the ensuite and began to draw Patrick’s bath. While the water was running Pete neglected to hear Patrick entering the ensuite, sheet draped around his body, skin flushed a rosy pink.

“I could have done that myself,” Patrick said to Pete, who turned quickly to face the other man. 

Never had Pete wanted another person so bad in his life. He couldn’t help his eyes as they roamed over Patrick’s face, slim shoulders, and slightly protruding collarbone, the only parts of the pale man he could see.

When Pete’s eyes roamed back up to Patrick’s face, he could tell he had made the young man uncomfortable.

Pete turned the water off and stood to leave the room. “If you need help, there is a phone on the wall. Just pick it up and ask for help, and someone will be here immediately.”

Pete, not wanting Patrick to see his aroused state, quickly passed him, but felt a gentle hand on his wrist stopping him from leaving.

Pete looked into Patrick’s blue-green eyes, only a foot away from his own brown ones.

“Pete,” Patrick whispered quietly, “Thank you for saving me once again.”

Overcome with an emotion akin to desire, Pete nodded and left the room.

When he turned to close the door, he accidentally caught a glimpse of Patrick’s body in the bathroom mirror. He was perfect, hair a coppery gold color on his arms, chest, and legs, and he was well-endowed and semi-hard.

Pete all but ran to the guest bathroom at the end of the hall, barely closing the door before he had his pants open and taking care of his erection, picturing Patrick underneath him, writhing and declaring his love for Pete over and over.

While Pete was washing his hands and drying them, he looked at himself in the mirror. All of the sudden he felt dirty and ashamed. He had let himself be carried away by a stolen glimpse of a young man who didn’t give his consent to be gawked at.

Pete, feeling a sudden dark mood wash over him, descended the staircase, asked Hayley to change his bedsheets and lay out a nightshirt for Patrick, and to make sure Vicky took him some soup and crackers in an hour’s time.

It was only after he achieved this that he allowed himself to grab several bottles of his best liquor from his library before locking himself in the music room.

****************************************

He awoke to an insistent pounding on the music room door. He was sprawled out on the leather couch, a few empty bottles laying around on the floor. He raised his head and tried to remember the last time he had felt fresh air on his face. Oh, it had been the other night when he had stumbled to the french doors, opening them enough only to relieve himself. 

“Pete! Pete! Let me in, please? We are all worried about you!”

Pete just turned to face the back of the couch and took a big swig out of the whiskey bottle he had snatched from the coffee table.

“Go away and leave me alone. ‘S what I deserve.”

“Pete, unlock the door!”

“ANDY - LEAVE ME!”

Pete had never ever yelled like that at Andy before.

Silence.

“Very well,” and then footsteps leading away.

Pete took another swig and closed his eyes. He deserved this; alone and miserable were good friends who never let him down.

******************************************

When he next awoke, he was laying on the floor on his side looking into the troubled eyes of Andy.

Pete groaned and rolled onto his back, rubbing his hands down his face.

“How did you get in?”

Andy shrugged. “I picked the lock.”

“I asked you to leave me in peace.”

Andy stood and held out a hand to Pete. Pete grudgingly accepted it, allowing the other man to pull him to his feet.

“It’s Patrick. He’s much better now and has been asking about you every day. I’m running out of excuses and I can slowly see a little more rejection show itself in his eyes.”

Pete flopped onto the couch. “He should go back to his home. He’s better off without me.”

Andy sat down beside Pete. “Did he tell you that? If so, I’ll send him back immediately.”

Pete shook his head. “No, he didn’t need to. He’s eighteen, Andy. He’s beautiful and talented and full of fire. I don’t want to tie him down to me - a wrecked man with a fragmented mind.”

“Pete-” Andy began, trying to launch into one of his uplifting speeches.

But Pete was having none of it.

“Andy, I want you to give Patrick his freedom papers and allow him to leave early. He has a great future ahead of him, and I don’t want to hold him back.”

“But don’t you also want him to be happy?” Andy asked.

“He will be, once he’s far away from this place. He’s young, he will find happiness elsewhere, I am sure of it.”

“Now please bring me a few more bottles of wine, and make sure to give Patrick his papers and...give him my regards.”

“I have never once disagreed with a decision you have made until today. If you would just…”

“ANDY!” Pete placed his head in his hands and choked back a sob.

“As you wish, Master Pete.”

The tears began to fall only when he heard Andy shut and relock the door.

****************************************

Andy opened the door a short time later, placing the wine on the floor just inside the room.

“It’s done. He has moved his things.”

Pete only nodded his head, and Andy retreated.

‘So this is what it feels like to have a broken heart’ was Pete’s last thought before he passed out on the couch, full of wine and regrets.

********************************************

There was a beautiful melody playing in his head, a piece that reminded him of sunny days, babbling brooks, and the freedom of letting Chestnut run unencumbered.

Pete smiled to himself, something he hadn’t done in weeks.

He rubbed his eyes and yawned widely before sitting up.

The music continued, even though he was now wide awake. 

Pete opened his eyes, ready to chastise one of the staff for entering the music room without permission.

But it wasn’t a member of his staff.

Patrick was sitting behind the piano, staring at him, a troubled look on his face, fingers dancing gracefully along the keys.

“I didn’t know you could play the piano,” Pete said quietly.

Patrick stopped playing and turned to fully face Pete.

“My mother was a member of the upper class. She married below her station for love, and her family disowned her. She’s the one who taught me to play.”

Pete sat on the couch, quietly contemplating this. “How did you get in?”

“Andy. Why did you want to send me away?” Patrick said in a trembling voice.

Pete looked at Patrick’s disconsolate face. 

“I didn’t send you away, I told Andy to give you your freedom papers so that you would be free to leave.”

“Why? I don’t understand…”

Pete couldn’t stand to look at Patrick’s beautiful face twisted in pain anymore. He stood and strode across the room to look out the french doors.

“I have...I mean, I have come to discover I hold feelings for you, not only of an affectionate type, but also carnal.”

“ I have inner demons I struggle with from time to time. They invade my head and make me do and say things I regret. I don’t want to subject you to that.”

“Patrick,you are so good and pure, I could never hope to win the feelings of endearment of such a decent man.”

“You are so full of life, I want you to go out and discover all the great and wonderful things the world has to offer.”

“I have no doubt you will find a more worthy suitor, one who is wholesome and will love you the way you deserve to be loved…”

Pete felt something soft hit his back. He turned around just in time to take a throw pillow to the face. He held his hands up in time to hold off the last pillow.

Before he knew it, there were small fists beating on his chest. “You idiot!! Can’t you see what is right in front of your eyes?”

“I thought you would understand through the carvings, but I guess I will have to spell it out for you.”

“What you did for me, releasing me - it meant everything to me. I had fallen in love with you when I saw you from the stage, and when you signed my freedom papers, it just made me fall deeper for you.”

“I only could get a hold of pieces of wood in my spare time, and I hoped that you would be able to tell from the only gifts I had to offer that I was trying to...to…”

Patrick’s sentence trailed off, and his cheeks turned bright red.

Pete put his fingers under Patrick’s chin and lifted Patrick’s face upward.

“Trying to…,” Pete gently urged Patrick to continue.

“To court you.” Patrick whispered.

Pete’s breath caught in his throat.

“Oh…”

Patrick took Pete’s face in his hands, thumbs caressing his cheeks.

“I did move my things yesterday.”

Pete gulped loudly, trying to hold back tears. Of course, this was goodbye.

“I am so honored to have held your esteem for as long as I did. I wish you every success in your future endeavors.”

Pete tried his hardest to hold back the tears, but to no avail.

Patrick just chuckled and shook his head.

“Pete, I moved my things into your room. I mean if that’s ok-”

Patrick didn’t have a chance to finish his sentence - Pete had pulled him in for a deep, desperate kiss.

“I love you so much Patrick,” Pete said as he pulled back a fraction of an inch. “I’m going to make you so happy…”

Patrick picked up Pete’s hand and began leading him to the door of the music room.

“Let’s go up to our bedroom - we’ll begin our joy there…”

EPILOGUE - SIX MONTHS LATER

“I can’t believe it’s so big!”

“Careful, Patrick,” Pete whispered in his husband’s ear. “People may think you are talking about something else…”

Patrick turned to slap his husband’s arm.

They were on The Continent for an extended honeymoon, Pete leaving his estate in the capable hands of Spencer and William, who had been instructed to continue with his quest to free as many people as possible.

Pete took Patrick in his arms, turning him around so they both could stare at the Eiffel Tower that loomed above them.

“Are you happy, Mr. Stumph-Wentz?” Pete nuzzled into his neck.

Patrick sighed and rubbed the arms wrapped around his middle.

This man frequently infuriated, exasperated, frustrated, and challenged him.

But this man also loved him thoroughly, unquestioningly, sensually, and unfailingly.

The man who had rescued him, and who he had rescued right back.

“Extremely happy, Mr. Wentz,” Patrick replied before sealing his lips to Pete’s.

fin


End file.
